


Custody

by NocturneProductions



Category: Death Note & Related Fandoms, Death Note (Anime & Manga)
Genre: A bit that happens way latter on, And Failing, Angst, Attempt at Humor, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Light trying to get his life together, Mikami adopts Light, Mikami trying to be a parent should be its own warning, Psychological Horror
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 09:11:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16951164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NocturneProductions/pseuds/NocturneProductions
Summary: Light had always had a set plan of what he wanted to do with his life, but after losing his family his foundation starts to crumble. Someone unexpected becomes his guardian, and Light begins to think that being the ward of Teru Mikami is worse than having no family at all.





	Custody

 

It was cold.

Light shivered despite himself, the pitter patter of his socks hitting the hardwood floor as he crept down the steps. He had forgotten how cold mornings could be, even now in the summer. It was the middle of August, and it had particularly humid these past couple days. Light was just waiting for it to rain, then maybe the heat in the afternoon would be more forgiving. A tired yawn escaped him, and he went over to the landline phone, pausing in front of it.

Quietly, he dialed the answering machine, and perked up when it dinged, ringing out in a automated voice. “You have one new message.”

He looked at who it was from, and sagged his shoulders. So it wasn't from dad then, _dammit._ Light sighed and began to play it anyway, before stepping away from it as he began to go about his business. How did mom start off her mornings again? He was rarely up before her, and the last time he had been seemed so long ago. He closed his eyes and willed himself to think back to the times he had seen her get ready, and sucked in a breath. He opened up the curtains in the kitchen, letting the golden morning light stream inside.

“Hello Light-san! This is Matsuda.” Rang out the voice, made gritty from the speaker.

Light closed his eyes for a moment, then looked at the potted flowers on the windowsill. They were a pop of yellow and pink, his mother's favorite. They were wilted now from lack of care, the petals wrinkled and hanging. Sachiko would probably fret at the state they were in, bustling around the house. Out of habit, he poured some water onto them, though he doubt that it would save their lives at this point. He could hear her already, wiping her hands off on her apron.

_Light! Could you toss those out, and help me with dinner? We have guests today, you know._

“I’m ah, calling to let you know that Soichiro is working overtime today too.”

Light opened the fridge, and sighed. He rubbed his eyes, before running his eyes along the inside of the refrigerator. He would have to remind dad to give him some money for groceries, since the man obviously wasn’t going to do it himself. The fridge was mostly empty, apart from a carton of eggs, some sandwich meat, and a jug of milk. He grimaced looking at the expiration date, and opened up the milk cautiously. He curled his nose, cursing. It was spoiled, just his luck.

“So I’d really appreciate it if you brought a change of clothes for him, since he isn’t leaving the office anytime soon.”

He didn’t feel like cooking so early in the morning, or at all today, to be honest. So he settled on making a plain sandwich, and sat at the table. He made a note to bring some clothes for his father when he visited the police building, and numbly took a bite of the sandwich. It didn’t taste like anything, but he kept on eating fo the sake of it. Light didn't want Soichiro to worry about him, that is, if he even noticed it at all.

“And... I want you to know that you can talk to me.”

He was not weak. He repeated this mantra in his head, staring down at the table. Despite this, his hands were shaking, _dammit_. His mouth felt dry, and he clenched his eyes shut. It should not be Matsuda who was giving him this reassurance, but the person who should had been holed up in his office for days now. Light could not stop the coil of bitterness that had settled into his gut, even though he knew that he wasn’t supposed to feel it. It was always justice this, justice that. What about…

 

What about _him?_

 

“I know how hard it’s been for you, lately.”

Light gave up the facade of normalcy, and buried his head in his arms. He lifted it up just enough to look at the phone, a whole mixture of emotions running through him. Matsuda was not the smartest person alive, which in of itself was quite the understatement. He was childish, and was really ever able to keep up when Light would ramble his thoughts when they talked. It was nice despite that though, really nice.

It was difficult talking with his peers, but he had gotten good at pretending through experience. He had tried to speak about justice, the ideals that Soichiro hammered into his head, but he couldn’t. They didn’t understand, they didn’t _care_. To the adults, he was just another dumb child who was not to be taken seriously. It was frustrating, and so many times Light had wanted to yank out his hair and scream from how unfair it all was. Most of all, it was more lonely than he could ever explain.

“So when you visit Soichiro-san stop by my desk, ‘kay? See you soon.”

The message ended with a click, leaving the answering machine to slowly beep. Light let his shoulders sag in exhaustion, and his mind wander. Matsuda reminded him alot of Sayu, oddly enough. His mind wasn’t as fast as his, and he didn’t understand completely, but he _listened._ He let Light ramble about all of the endless thoughts and frustrations running through his head, and nodded along without any judgment. It wasn’t perfect, but it helped fill the void, just a little bit.

He couldn’t get into most of Sayu’s hobbies, which included everything Hideki Ryuga and the boy bands that were most popular right now. He respected her interests though, like she respected his. He lost track of the amount of times she played that music in his room while pretending to even be trying to study. She always was a bit more sporty than he was, and enjoyed her gym class the most. Sayu was one of the best members of her school’s track team, and Light almost never missed a competition.

The days that he and Sayu would play tennis and then go grab ice cream. Him helping his mother cook dinner, while some sitcom was playing on the TV. Sayu trying to trick him into doing her homework for her, and him playing along to make her happy. It was so _simple_. It wasn’t complex, or any sort of puzzle for him to figure out. It just was, and it was enough. It made him happy, and it would never happen ever again.

 

Because they were both dead.

 

\---

 

Light shifted in his feet, adjusting the bag he carried. The police headquarters was familiar to him, and he had gone there so many times that he had lost count. The brunette made sure to keep a polite smile on his face as he walked towards his father’s office, but did not stop to chat. Everyone in the building seemed more stressed, the officers themselves significantly more so. Light figured that had to be because of his father, judging from what Aizawa and Matsuda had told him.

It seemed that Soichiro was making _everyone_ involved. The man just didn’t rest, did he? In the past, Light had praised him endlessly for that. It was what he had admired most about the man, but he couldn’t get himself to feel that now. There was nothing to fill that void anymore, no matter how much he tried to ignore it. He didn’t want to eat alone again, it was just a horrible reminder that they were gone. That they would never sit next to him again. Dad was still there, but he was never home _with_ him and-

Light swallowed down the emotions threatening to spill over, he would not cry in front of all his father’s coworkers. It had been bad enough when he had broken down in front of Aizawa and Matsuda, he would not do it again. It was fine, he would get through this. He sucked in a breath when he drew near his dad’s office, feeling an odd trepidation. The teenager didn’t know why he had to mentally prepare himself just to see him, it seemed so wrong. He never had to do that in the past, or at the very least not to this level.

His relationship with Soichiro had always been a bit different from the rest of the family, but he had never known any different. There was always a increased formality whenever the man came home, a sort of tension that settled over them. The man’s figure was one that demanded respect, and Light had always felt a bit intimidated by his presence. Dad was a _hero_ ; he had wanted to be just like him one day.

The brunette paused when he hear voices coming from his father’s office, raising an eyebrow in curiosity. Who was Soichiro talking to? He could hear the voice of his father, which sounded irritated. The other voice was one he didn’t recognize, and Light furrowed his brows as he stepped in front of the office door, which, oddly enough, was open. Neither of them seemed to notice him though, too deep in their conversation.

“What the hell do you mean you wont take the case?!” Soichiro shouted.

The teenager flinched, shocked at how loud his father was being. The chief _never_ yelled like that. Soichiro was standing, both hands on the desk and his hair unkempt. It looked like he hadn’t slept in a very long time, and knowing him, it was probably true. The other man looked calm, despite the chief’s yelling. Light had never seen him before, and it didn’t seem that he was an officer, either. His dark hair was long and framed his young face; He rested one hand on his hip, while he carried a briefcase in the other.

Mature eyes glinted from under his glasses. “I’m not taking your case because you don’t _have_ one.”

“Don’t have-” Soichiro repeated, before growling. “I thought you believed me!”

“I’m not saying that I don’t, but you don’t even have so much as a _suspect_ Yagami-san.” His voice was almost reprimanding, as if he were talking to a child rather than an adult.

Light didn’t want this to escalate more than it needed to, he could tell that his father was in a bad mood already. He hadn’t known that the man was capable in acting in such a manner, and he didn’t want it to get even worse. Light coughed in his throat awkwardly, grabbing their attention. The stranger blinked in surprise, but otherwise did not react. Soichiro sagged a little at the sight of his son, rubbing his eyes tiredly underneath his glasses.

“Light, I wasn’t expecting you.” He sighed.

The teenager stepped forward, tentatively lifting up the bag. “I brought you a change of clothes…”

“Thank you, Light.” He motioned toward an empty chair. “You can just leave them there.”

The brunette did as he was told, and then he was suddenly trapped under the stranger’s gaze. The was nothing negative in his expression, but it wasn’t positive either. It was almost like the man was trying to peel back every layer of him with his eyes, how every piece of him worked. Light shifted a little, not used to being on the receiving end of such an analytical stare. If Soichiro noticed this, he didn’t comment on it.

“Light, this is Prosecutor Mikami Teru.” Soichiro motioned to him. “Mikami-san, this is my son, Light.”

Mikami smiled politely at him, and offered his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Yagami-san.”

He smiled back and shook his hand. “You too, Mikami-san.”

“I believe we should continue our conversation at another time, Mikami-san.” Soichiro sighed, leaning back into his chair.

There was a sharpness in Mikami’s eyes now, extinguishing the warmth directed at Light that he hadn’t known had even been there. It took him by surprise, and his brows furrowed at bit as he watched the older man. It wasn’t hatred directed at his father, it was more like a firm resolve. As if the man had some sort of grand duty of some kind. Light looked at him in contemplation; not even _dad_ got looks like like when he got deep into spouting his views about justice.

Mikami’s voice wasn’t impolite, but it was far from friendly. “See that you do. I have other clients requesting me, you know.”

Before Soichiro could get another word in, the prosecutor was gone. The chief suddenly looked much older than he was, and he buried his face in his hands out of stress. Light frowned, looking at him for a moment, before sighing and shutting the door. He didn’t want any of the other police officer’s to listen in, since he had the feeling the conversation would delve into more private matters. It had been too long since he had gotten to talk with his father alone.

“So…” Light hesitated. “A prosecutor?”

Soichiro nodded, and the tired look in his eyes only increased. “Yes. Mikami-san is very skilled in his field of work, so I was hoping he’d take my case but…”

“You don’t have anything to build a case on.” Light finished.

It still hurt to think about, like a gaping wound that could never be healed. A part of him knew that it would never go away, not completely. They were gone, they were gone and they were never coming back. Aizawa and Matsuda were the ones that had given him the news, apparently Soichiro was too afraid to do it himself, he noted with some bitterness.

It was a freak accident, they had said. Sachiko and Sayu were walking down the sidewalk to visit Soichiro; Light had been sick and decided to stay home. A 29 year old man named Ryotaro Sakajo had been driving down the street, before having a sudden heart attack. He lost control of the car, and drove straight into the both of them. A witness saw the whole thing, and called 911. By the time the ambulances and police arrived, his family, and the man, were dead.

Light’s breath trembled a bit at the memory; he knew that there was no use in dwelling on the past. He couldn’t help it though, it was still fresh in his mind. Endless scenarios ran through his head, on what he could have done to prevent it. Going with them and pulling them both out of the way, convincing them not to go at all. What had they done to deserve to die like that? They were good people, and Sayu was only in her first year of middle school. Light wanted to scream from how unfair it all was. He wanted to scream and yell and throw everything he could see, and demand that death give them _back_.

“I do have a case!” Soichiro snapped. “It’s just that they won’t listen!”

Light flinched back, his eyes widening in shock. His father _never_ used that tone toward him before. He felt his mouth go dry, and futilely tried to swallow. Maybe, at another time, another place, he would have shied away. He would have seen that Soichiro was too caught up in the need to pin the blame on someone, anyone, and would have accepted the situation for what it was. However right now, he was just as full of grief, and would not let himself back down.

“Do you? And what brilliant evidence do you have?” Light’s voice came out harsher than he meant it too.

“The witness stated that the car just suddenly changed direction.” Soichiro looked like he was trying hard not to yell. “Plus the driver was only 29, there was no way he could just have a heart attack!”

The teenager felt a flash of anger that he cannot suppress. “No way? It’s not like it’s unheard of, dad! Just admit that it was an accident, and let it go! Please, just take a break, come home."

Light’s voice had turned pleading before he could catch himself, and he clenched his hands into fists. Whether it was out of nervousness, anger, or some combination of the two, he couldn’t tell anymore. It was as if his mind could not keep up with his body, everything was moving so fast that even he could hardly keep up. The teenager didn’t remember ever shouting at his father before, but then again, he had never been as infuriated with the man as he was now. Soichiro’s eyes narrowed behind his glasses, and Light could feel his throat squeeze.

“Ah, so that is what this is about.” Soichiro was gritting his teeth in visible anger. “Stop being so damn selfish, Light. It’s not just about _you_.” 

The teenager growled in anger, clenching his fists. “Oh, _I’m_ being selfish? I know you think you’re _so_ righteous for doing this, but look at yourself!” He waved his hands over his father for emphasis, pacing back and forth in front of his desk. “When’s the last time you’ve slept!?”

He knows that both of them are yelling now, and in the back of his mind he is grateful that he thought to close the door. He had no doubt that anyone walking by would be able to hear their muffled shouts though, with how loud they were being. The logical part of himself telling him to stop, to just let it go and leave, seemed so far away now. Words tumbled out of his mouth before he even knew that he was speaking them, and he could not stop himself.

He was too frustrated, too emotionally exhausted to hide his feelings behind fake politeness. Who was Soichiro to talk to him like that, like he was being so unreasonable? The chief just didn’t _get_ it; he had hardly left work at all after Sachiko and Sayu passed away. Light was always the one who was left in that empty house, constantly bombarded with the fact that they were gone. He could only distract himself by hanging out with his small group of friends so many times. Was it really so bad? Couldn’t he be a little selfish, just this once?

“I’m fine, Light! Now stop meddling in affairs that are none of your business!” Soichiro’s voice was so loud that it hurt his ears.

“None of my _business_?” Light hissed, looking at him in disbelief. “They were my family too! Do you think I don’t miss them just as much as you do?”

Something cruel crosses across his father’s face. “How am I supposed to know? You seem to be content sitting on your ass and doing nothing!”

The teenager couldn’t help it, he reeled back at that. For a moment, all he could feel was the air knocked out of his lungs, as if someone had just kicked him in the gut. It hurt,, it hurt more than it probably should have. Despite the horrible thudding in his heart, and the trembling of his hands, he felt a veil of calmness. So that’s how his father felt, huh? The chief had somehow rationalized that not going on a wild goose chase for a killer that did not exist, was apathy for their deaths. How conceited could you get? He clenched his teeth, ignoring the burning in his eyes.

“Fuck you.” The words were quiet, but scathing.

Soichiro’s expression looked pained, as if he himself had realized that he had crossed a line he should not have crossed. “Light…”

“No. You know what? Go run yourself into the ground for all I care.” Light smiled, but it looked more like a twisted grimace. Not looking at his father, he went to the office door and swung it open. “In fact, it would probably be best if I didn’t see your face ever again.” He looks the man right in the eyes then; he wants this to _hurt_. “I fucking hate you.”

Light didn’t wait to hear Soichiro’s reply; he knew from the expression on the man’s face that he had made his mark. He made sure to slam the door behind him as he left, and let out a breath. It worried the teenager a bit that he didn’t feel more horrible about the whole thing, but right now, he just didn’t. He felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, like he had finally said everything he had wanted to say. The teenager walked down the hallway, feeling a bit guilty, but mostly feeling a grim satisfaction.

 

\---

 

Matsuda did not have the privilege of having a private office, like Soichiro did. Instead, he had a tiny cubicle that was crammed against several others. The walls of it were covered with little posters of shows he hadn’t seen before, as well has some haphazard post-it notes with reminders scrawled onto them. Matsuda himself was sitting in his office chair, bouncing one of his knees. Light was leaning against his desk, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“This isn’t fair.” Matsuda whined. “Yagami-san is asking me to work overtime _again_. I’m going to miss the wrestling match that’s on tonight.”

“You don’t have to, you know.” Light replied, with a tired smile on his face.  

Matsuda stretched out his shoulders. “Well, sure. The pay is too good to say no to though; I might actually be able to have some money saved for once.”

Light actually laughs at that, and it makes the weight lift off of him, just a bit. The officer chuckles back, his dark eyes glittering with amusement. He missed talking to Matsuda; it had been too long since he had. The man was just filled with so much optimism it was contagious, and he couldn’t help but feel a bit happier in the presence of the man. It felt good to just have a normal conversation for once. Matsuda leaned back in his chair, grinning at Light with a bit of mischief.

His tone was superficially innocent. “Want to go visit Aizawa? It’s been too quiet.”

“Matsuda! You and him are at work!” Light stared in disbelief. “...Please tell me you didn’t actually bring one.”

The look on his face said it all, and the teenager wasn’t sure whether to feel horrified or amused. He knew it wasn’t normal for a teenager to be the one reprimanding an adult, but it was just how they were. It had all started when Light was still in middle school, and Matsuda was fresh from the academy. Soichiro had brought his family, along with Matsuda, to visit Aizawa. Light had met Matsuda a few times before that, but hadn’t felt any reason to connect with the man.

During the visit, Aizawa had sat down in his favorite chair, only to be greeted with the piercing sound of an airhorn. It had hurt Light’s ears a bit, but admittedly, seeing the otherwise stoic grown man let out a high pitched shriek had been more than worth it. Matsuda had been yelled at, but the brunette wasn’t able to hold in his giggles. After that, they had just started sticking together. That had probably been the police officer’s plan all along, but he couldn’t bring himself to complain too much.

Matsuda was entertaining, even if it was a bit juvenile in nature. It was nice to do some harmless rule breaking sometimes, so he looked the other way. It was his job to make sure the older man didn’t go too far though; he didn’t want him to get in actual trouble. Light remembered once having to convince him not to go through with a prank that would end up with Aizawa having hot pink hair. Matsuda had complained, of course, something about it being a classic. He had rebutted that so was getting written up, so the officer had reluctantly relented. Honestly, since when had _he_ become the adult?

As if sensing his inner thoughts, the man grinned mischievously. “Try to stop me.”

Before Light had even had time to process _that_ , Matsuda had bolted from his chair. For a moment, the teenager only stood there with his mouth hanging open. Was he actually being serious? He didn’t have any time to ponder it though, so he launched himself after him with a cry of, “Matsuda!”

Light didn’t bother being discreet, he was sure that the man had already brought all of the damn building’s attention onto himself. His feet hit the linoleum loudly as he ran, and he was distinctly aware of the amused gazes of the police officers as they watched him. Matsuda was going to owe him so much after this! If Soichiro got word of this, the teenager decided that he had an exclusive right to throttle the man.

By the time he had reached Aizawa’s cubicle, his lungs had started to burn. He panted miserably, resting against the wall for support. Matsuda’s face was flushed in a similar way, but he was grinning without a care in the world, leaning casually against Aizawa’s desk. Aizawa looked at the teenager in vague concern, but thankfully it seemed that nothing disastrous had happened. Not yet anyway.

“Matsuda, don’t do it.” Was the first thing Light managed to say.

“Don’t do what?” He replied with faux ignorance.

The brunette pushed himself away from the wall. “You know what I’m talking about! Where is it?"

“Oh, you mean the airhorn.” Matsuda tilted his head a bit. “Yeah it’s not here.”

The teenager choked a bit. “ _What_?”

Aizawa looked a little amused, despite the fact that the two of them had interrupted his work. Matsuda dramatically lifted himself up, swaying his body dramatactly as if he were a badly acted character in one of those sitcom’s Sayu loved to watch. Light was then filled with a realization, and did not know whether to laugh, cry, or punch Matsuda in his stupid smug face.

“Yeah, management doesn’t allow air horns on the property.” The young officer’s grin turned cheeky. “Didn’t you know that?”

Light glared, and punched him in the chest. “You _jerk_!”

Matsuda actually laughed at that. Okay, so _maybe_ Light hadn’t hit him as hard as he could have. It was so frustrating, and he resisted the urge to yank out his hair. Matsuda had actually managed to trick him. _Matsuda!_ Despite the rage he was feeling, he was unable to control the corners of his mouth turning up, or the giggles that followed soon after. That idiot! He was angry, embarrassed, and his lungs still burned from chasing him Yet oddly enough, he felt happy.

“Aren’t you supposed to be an adult, Matsuda-san?” Aizawa rose an eyebrow.

“I am! I take work very seriously!” Matsuda protested. “Aren’t I allowed to cheer him up a bit?”

Light paused at that, and for a moment all he could do was stare at the man. That had been what the young officer was trying to do? The teenager thought his acting had been good enough, but Matsuda had clearly seen right through it. A part of him felt frustrated at himself; he was usually better at hiding that sort of thing. Most of Light, though, felt an odd warmness when he had heard that.

He certainly hadn’t been expecting him to notice anything was wrong, and the man himself hadn’t given him any noticeable concerned glances.  He supposed, after knowing someone long enough, you just knew. It was touching, to know that the man cared to notice. Though, there was no doubt that his mother and sister’s passing had put Matsuda on high alert. The method Matsuda had used to go about it was foolish, but it had worked. He hadn’t thought of them, or his father. For a moment, things had been normal again.

Aizawa sighed, shuffling the papers on his desk. “We _are_ at work you know.”

“You don’t look all that upset though, wanna tell me why?” Matsuda replied with a grin.

“Oh it’s nothing to do with you.” The older man gave him a withering look. “Trust me.”

“Hey!”

Light could only watch, shaking his head slightly. As he grew older, the differences between children and adults seemed more and more inconsequential. The teenager swore that he had witnessed something eerily similar to this more than once, between his classmates. The police building seemed no different than his high school, sometimes. There was gossip, a begrudging respect for authority figures, and petty fights that were had just for the sake of fighting. At least then, the adult world didn’t seem so alien.

Light felt his phone buzz, and he sighed and pulled it out of his pocket. The text was from Yamamoto, and the teenager felt a spike of curiosity as he opened it. He and his friend hadn't texted each other for awhile; Light had been too busy with… everything that had been happening. The cautious enthusiasm he had, died quickly as soon as he read the message.

_“Can you help us with HW? ^ ^”_

Of course, of _course_ that was what it was about. Light groaned a bit just looking at the message, honestly, couldn’t they ever just study by themselves? Of course, he knew that he was fooling himself by thinking they would even study when they were with him. It was more along the lines of Light having to deal with them trying to pass all of their work onto him for two hours. Still, it gave him a good excuse to leave, so he decided to bite the bullet.

He replied with a short. “ _Yes.”_

Light put his phone back into his pocket, mentally preparing for the couple hours of torture he would have to endure. Matsuda and Aizawa were still engaged in their bickering, and the teenager cleared his throat to grab their attention. They both gave him a quizzical look, going silent.

“My friends want to hang out.” He said. “So I should probably go.”

Matsuda looked visibly disappointed. “Already?”

“Matsuda!” Aizawa scolded, before turning to Light. His expression was gentle, and it made the teenager’s stomach churn for some reason. “Go have some fun, bud.”

The brunette gave him one of his fake pleasant smiles. “I will.” He turned to leave, before hesitating and looking back. “Matsuda, let’s go to the beef bowl place you keep talking to me about. Tomorrow night?”

“Yeah! Let’s do it!” The officer perked up, grinning brightly.

Light smiled at him, nodding his head before leaving. He wasn’t happy about leaving them so quickly either, but he hadn’t seen his little group of friends in a while. The teenager didn’t think they had actually hung out since… before. Besides that, the building had a different feeling to it now. Something that even Matsuda’s kindness, or Aizawa’s gruff but ultimately caring demeanor could not distract from. As he got closer to the elevators, he paused at the opening of the hallway that led to his father’s office.

He felt a mixture of emotions that left him unable to breath for a moment, and he clenched his hands to calm their shaking. He had never yelled at his father like that before, they had never even really _fought_. Light had always done his best to be the best son he could be, and raising his voice at his parents was inconceivable. His emotional control had crumbled over these last couple weeks, and he supposed, the same had been true for Soichiro.

Light could not bring himself to forgive the man though, not yet. So, he sucked in a breath and walked passed the hallway. He hoped that the man would apologize, maybe even take a break for a few days. He had barely even _seen_ his father after the funeral, and when he had come home, usually at the very early hours of the morning before the sun had risen, he retreated to his bedroom before the teenager could even get a word in. Apparently wishing to actually spend some time with him made him a villian in his father’s eyes.

Light felt a flash of bitterness as he left the building, cringing a little as he felt the humidity hit him. The sun was starting to set, casting the sky in a yellow glow. The teenager felt a flash of trepidation; he would have to hurry to the station before it got dark. He sighed and stepped forward, but perked up in interest when he heard a voice. It was the prosecutor from before, he realized. The older man was standing next to one of the concrete columns that lined the doorway of the building, on a phone call.

“Yes, I am aware. No, I probably won't be taking it.” Mikami sighed in barely concealed exasperation, putting a hand on his hip. “Amane-san’s testimony is compelling, but doesn’t make a case. There’s absolutely no evidence of a third party involvement, despite what my client is insisting. Besides that, the culprit is dead, there’s no one to charge.”

Light’s eyes widened, and he stepped behind a pillar to listen further. The prosecutor was talking about his _father’s_ case! He felt a little guilty about eavesdropping, but he was involved in this. How little he actually knew about it was frustrating, his father hadn’t even bothered to tell him that he was trying to make a case before today! Who was this Amane-san, anyway? Were they the witness? He would have appreciated being told _that_ information, thank you very much.

“I’ll give him my normal week-long grace period, but I doubt he’ll deliver. Right, yes, I’ll see you at the office tomorrow.” With that, Mikami ended the call, sighing and putting his phone in his pocket.

The teenager waited a moment, before stepping out. He made sure to him his best smile, waving at him. “Oh, hello Mikami-san!”

The prosecutor's eyes widened for a moment, before he returned a smile of his own. “Hello Yagami-san.”

He was young for an attorney, Light realized. He looked to only be in his twenties, yet he was apparently regarded for his skill in the field. Didn’t schooling take many, many years? Light glanced down at his hands, there was no ring on them. So not married, then. The teenager brushed back his bangs, grimacing at how they stuck to his forehead.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be here, still.” Light said. “You seem… I don’t know, like you always have something to do.”

Mikami chuckled. “You’re not exactly wrong. I just had some other things to take care of before I headed home.”

“I understand. I’m heading home myself.” He smiled.

“You live in Chiyoda?”

“Oh, no. I live Setagaya.” He corrected.

The prosecutor frowned in curiosity, and maybe a hint of concern. Light blinked in surprise at the sight, but it was so well hidden under the man’s impartial demeanor that he was not sure it had even been there. The man narrowed his eyes, as if he was contemplating something. For a moment, it was quiet. Mikami was thinking over how he should say what he wanted to say, Light realized. He adjusted his glasses, taking in a breath.

“I see. The station to there is a bit far, isn’t it?” Mikami eventually replied.

“Oh, yeah.” He rubbed the back of his head. “I’m pretty used to it though.”

That only seemed to make him frown harder. “Even so, it isn’t a good idea to walk the streets by yourself when it’s about to get dark out. I could give you a ride to the station, if you want.”

Light’s eyes went wide in shock, and for a moment he was rendered utterly speechless. Well, he certainly hadn’t expected _that._ Why would Mikami offer him a ride? They were still practically strangers, and had only even met a an hour or two earlier. The brunette felt a coil of suspicion in his stomach, wondering if the man had some sort of utiler motive. It was gone as soon as it had been there, after he gave himself a moment to think it over.

There were cameras all over the outside of the building, and the police weren’t exactly subtle about it. Besides that, Mikami had met Light the same day, which would make him the prime suspect if something _did_ happen. So there was no way that he was some creepy stalker trying to kidnap him, or something like that. The man was smart, he had to be, with all of the evidence that was pointing to that fact. Even people with less than average intelligence could piece together that trying anything would be one of the most idiotic things you could do. The teenager hadn’t gotten any weird vibes from him either, except that he was a bit stern.

Maybe Mikami was just trying to be courteous; it wasn’t too outlandish. Light remembered his mother doing above and beyond for woman she didn’t really know, but that had been to gain the favor of the other housewives that lived in the area. Maybe the prosecutor was trying to impress himself, because he seriously doubted that the adult cared adult at all about the opinions of a fifteen year old highschool student. This could give him more information about the case too, if he played his cards right. It was blatantly obvious Soichiro wasn’t going to tell him anything.

“That sounds really nice.” He said gratefully. “Thank you, Mikami-san.”

Mikami picked up his briefcase, looking down at him. “It really is no problem. I live in Shibuya, so Setagaya is on the way.”

The prosecutor was very... neat, Light realized. Even during casual conversation, there was this air of professionalism that hung around him. His clothes didn’t have a single wrinkle, and looked as if they had come right from the store, but somehow even more new than that. His metal briefcase was shiney and cleaned, and even his glasses lacked any smudges. Mikami magically did not seemed affected by the horrible weather at all, either. His hair didn’t even seem to be even a little bit damp or frizzy, the teenager noted with some degree of irritation. That was _not_ fair.

By the time they had reached Mikami’s car, Light’s hair had only gotten worse. He huffed as he tried to smooth it down: he clearly had not put enough hairspray in it. This was why he hated summers with a burning passion, he hated the unkempt appearance it gave him. The prosecutor unlocked his car, opening one of the backdoors to put away his briefcase. The teenager took the opportunity to sit in the passenger seat, and he looked around it in curiosity.

The car was as clean as the rest of Mikami’s things, was the first thing that came to Light’s mind. There was no dust, no dirt, not even a single wrapper. The teenager honestly felt a little guilty sitting in it, it felt like he was soiling it, somehow. The car even had that new car smell that usually faded away, and it didn’t seem to him that Mikami had gotten the car recently. There were no mementos either, which struck Light as odd. The only thing that was there was a water bottle that was in the drink holder, and there was likely some files in the glove department, but other than that, nothing.

Mikami got into the driver’s seat, shutting the door. He turned his car on, and much to Light’s relief, turned on the air conditioning. The teenager sighed in relief, feeling the cool air wash over him. He was really glad he had decided not to walk, now. Mikami did not say anything, and he moved his hand to change the car to drive. He hesitated for a moment, and then turned on the radio. Music filled the vehicle, it was some pop music from a band he wished he didn’t know the name of. Music an adult would reasonably assume a teenager would like, he mused.  

For a few minutes, the two of them didn’t say anything to each other as Mikami drove. Then, Light turned to look at him. “So, do you not use the subway?”

“I take it from my home, or my work.” He replied. “I take my car when visiting clients, it’s more convenient that way.”

“That makes sense I guess. You were talking to dad earlier, what were you talking about? The case, I mean.” Light asked.

Mikami actually looked surprised. “He hasn’t told you?”

“I didn’t even _know_ he was trying to have a case made before today, so no, he hasn’t.”

The brunette was unable to keep the bitterness from his voice, and he looked out of the window, sucking in a breath. He glanced at the rearview mirror, Mikami’s expression was contemplative, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. Then, his expression smoothed into a neutral one, not leaning towards any emotion. Light wasn’t sure if that was good or bad, the man was very good at shielding off what he was thinking. His voice very rarely strayed from it’s quiet yet deep sound, he hadn’t even actually even raised it once since he had met him.

“I cannot tell you what is not public record.” Mikami’s voice was it’s usual softness, yet it somehow drowned out all other noise to Light, leaving only it for him to listen to. “However, I will tell you what I can.”

Light lost his breath then, and he could feel the thudding of his heart as he turned his head to face the man. The prosecutor's eyes had never left the road, yet somehow it felt as if he were staring right into him. He did not speak, he did not need to. Mikami let the silence linger for a mere moment, before continuing.  

“Yagami Sachiko and Yagami Sayu were walking to the NPA building to visit Soichiro Yagami. Amane Misa happened to be on the same street, along with  Ryotaro Sakajo. Ryotaro had been charged with stalking, and Amane had filed a restraining order against him. He was driving, likely stalking her, and suffered a spontaneous heart attack. The exact cause of it is unknown at this point, but it made him veer off the road and…” Mikami stopped for a moment, out of respect, then continued. “The chief recently started an investigation searching for third party involvement, and has a large chunk of the police force working on it.”

Light did his best to even out his breaths, staring at the buildings that passed him. The person that had gotten his parents killed had been a stalker? He bit his lip as he processed this information, furrowing his brows. So Soichiro was convinced that there was some sort of great conspiracy behind their deaths, then? His father truly was driving himself crazy, and he was using the police as some sort of validation. The teenager felt a pang of pity for the man, behind the frustration and hurt he felt.

“I see. Dad is working hard, completely convinced himself that there is someone out there to catch. I admire how determined he is but…” Light trailed off, sighing.

“You do not feel the same way.” Mikami finished.

It wasn’t a question, rather, a irrefutable statement. The prosecutor’s tone was not accusatory, but it was not apathetic either. He was inviting Light to say more, to explain his thoughts. The teenager fiddled with his shirt’s collar nervously, unsure of why he was so nervous. He supposed he had never actually talked about his father, other than in an idolizing manner. It felt odd to be talking to such a professional, actually _criticising_ him.  

Light stammars the words out. “I just wish he would try to move on too. At least pour his work into something more productive, rather than a case he must know will lead nowhere.”

As soon as he says he it, he shies away. Stupid! He was going to have to deal with another scolding. The teenager fought to keep his face from grimacing, screwing his eyes shut. He could hear it now, the mocking voice of an adult talking down to him like he was a child. He couldn’t be disrespectful, despite how badly he had wanted to scream in anger at their patronising expressions.

_Why don’t you be more considerate of him, Light-chan? We all grieve in different ways, you shouldn’t be so harsh on him._

“You’re not wrong to think that, Yagami-san.” Mikami’s voice cut through his thoughts.

Light jerked his head at that, looking at the prosecutor in shock. He did not know what to say to that, he wasn’t even sure he had heard the man correctly. He had never had an adult actually _agree_ with him on something like this before. He had simply grown used to the fact that they never would, so he kept his opinions to himself. The teenager had only opened up to Mikami because he was a stranger, his opinion of things wouldn’t affect him.                                                                                                        

“You want support from your parent, that is nothing shameful.” There’s something almost pained in Mikami’s expression, for a brief moment. Then, he looked at Light, his dark and intense eyes meeting his. “You are a good person.”

Light hadn’t known how much he had needed to hear that. He felt overwhelmed with the emotion it brought, and he quickly turned his face away. The teenager blinked back the unexpected wetness in his eyes, twiddling his fingers. That reassurance had touched him deeply, and he felt strangely weightless now. He had felt so much inner turmoil, and the degradation of the adults around him hadn’t helped. He wasn’t _wrong_ . He wasn’t _bad_.

He rubbed tiredly at his face, glancing back at Mikami. The man was looking back at the road again, his face the same neutral mask it usually was. This certainly wasn’t what Light had expected getting into the car with him, the most he had expected was awkward silence with some bits and pieces of what was going on. God, he was really losing it, wasn’t he? He dreaded the thought of returning to school, with all of the expectations of his peers as an extra weight on his shoulders. Maybe… Maybe things would be okay, though.

The view of the outside of the subway station filled his vision, and Light straightened his posture. He reached to buckle his seatbelt, and paused for a moment. He didn’t really _want_ to leave. The realization of that stilled him, but he forced himself to go through with it. Light really did not want to take up more of Mikami’s time, who knew how hectic that man’s schedule was. The man leaned over to the middle console, opening it and pulling out a soft cloth. He pulled off his glasses, and began to wipe away a smug that apparently only he could see.

“It was nice talking to you, Yagami-san.” Mikami said, glancing to him.

“Y-Yeah! I, um…” Light’s mind races over what to say, and he clenched the bottom of his shirt with his hands. “Thank you, for everything.”

A smile grew on the prosecutors face, a true genuine one. “The pleasure was all mine.”

The teenager got out of the car, once again greeting with the humidity of summer. He heard the bustle and chatter of people behind him as they went about their day, the distant voice of some advertisement that emanated from inside of the station. Yet he did not focus on those things, instead, he raised his hand up to wave goodbye as Mikami drove away. He stood there, watching, until his car finally disappeared from his vision.

**Author's Note:**

> I Hope you like it! I aged up Mikami a bit so the story would work. Light is only 15, and Mikami is 25 :) 
> 
> The first chapter is already so long, someone stop me. Is it bad to say that this is only a bit of the shit Light will have to go through? Someone save this child.


End file.
